“Newland.”

“Newland—­now you shall have mine in exchange:  Timothy Oldmixon at your service.  They christened me after the workhouse pump, which had ’Timothy Oldmixon fecit’ on it; and the overseers thought it as good a name to give me as any other; so I was christened after the pump-maker with some of the pump water.  As soon as I was big enough, they employed me to pump all the water for the use of the workhouse.  I worked at my papa, as I called the pump, all day long.  Few sons worked their father more, or disliked him so much:  and now, Japhet, you see, from habit, I’m pumping you.”

“You’ll soon pump dry, then, for I’ve very little to tell you,” replied I; “but, tell me, what sort of a person is our master?”

“He’s just what you see him, never alters, hardly ever out of humour, and when he is, he is just as odd as ever.  He very often threatens me, but I have never had a blow yet, although Mr Brookes has complained once or twice.”

“But surely Mr Brookes is not cross?”

“No, he is a very good gentleman; but sometimes I carry on my rigs a little too far, I must say that.  For as Mr Brookes says, people may die for want of the medicines, because I put down my basket to play.  It’s very true; but I can’t give up ‘peg in the ring’ on that account.  But then I only get a box of the ear from Mr Brookes, and that goes for nothing.  Mr Cophagus shakes his stick, and says, ’Bad boy—­big stick—­um—­won’t forget—­next time—­and so on,’” continued Timothy, laughing; “and it is so on, to the end of the chapter.”

By this time Mr Cophagus and his assistant had finished their dinner, and came into the shop.  The former looked at me, put his stick to his nose, “Little boys—­always hungry—­um—­like good dinner—­roast beef—­Yorkshire pudding—­and so on,” and he pointed with the stick to the back parlour.  Timothy and I understood him very well this time:  we went into the parlour, when the housekeeper sat down with us and helped us.  She was a terribly cross, little old woman, but as honest as she was cross, which is all that I shall say in her favour.  Timothy was no favourite, because he had such a good appetite; and it appeared that I was not very likely to stand well in her good opinion, for I also ate a great deal, and every extra mouthful I took I sank in her estimation, till I was nearly at the zero, where Timothy had long been for the same offence; but Mr Cophagus would not allow her to stint him, saying, “Little boys must eat—­or won’t grow—­and so on.”

I soon found out that we were not only well fed, but in every other point well treated, and I was very comfortable and happy.  Mr Brookes instructed me in the art of labelling and tying up, and in a very short time I was very expert; and as Timothy predicted, the rudiments were once more handed over to him.  Mr Cophagus supplied me with good clothes, but never gave me any pocket-money, and Timothy and I often lamented that we had not even a halfpenny to spend.